


If I Touched You

by LiteralistSin



Series: Vicissitudes Pass In A Mere Moment [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Afterlife fic, F/M, Gen, Happy BIrthday Grace!, I swear it's fluff, Major spoilers for the game, Other, Post chapter 1, Read at Your Own Risk, Resolving grudges, congrats on turning 17!, has spoilers for 1st and 6th chapters of the game and basically everything if you squint, hope you like it, this one's for you.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 23:08:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10501359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiteralistSin/pseuds/LiteralistSin
Summary: "She massaged her temples for a few seconds, trying to get the pain to subside. Alright, the images were gone. The voices, however… there were too many of them, screaming, whispering, all at once. Some said things she had no clue about, some called her name, over and over again, like a broken music box."





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Grace0331](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grace0331/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY Mom/Waifu/Bff/sugar dumpling! Here's some... interesting Amamatsu for you. Tell me what you thought of it ovo

The world after death only had a few rules.  
  
  
They involved never asking how the other died, keeping within your appointed ‘rooms,’ not crossing your boundaries or breaking any rules, and one more.  
  
  
Don’t touch the ones you’ve been separated from in death.  
  
  
Death was, after all, indiscriminate - and if Death decided to keep two people away even after they had finally been freed from their earthly bonds, it must be for a reason.  
  
  
Don’t touch them, whatever you do. They’ll disappear.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
When she came to, the world was a spotless white, as though a fresh coat of paint had been applied on it to hide the mistakes and ugliness of the past. There were glowing orbs of light floating all about her, winking at her teasingly.  
  
  
  
It was blinding, and bright, so bright she could’ve cried.  
  
  
  
She blinked once, twice, adjusting to the lighting at the place. It all struck her as strange, foreign - she didn’t belong here. Her head hurt as she pushed herself into a sitting position, making the orbs scatter, flashes of color, a few estranged, deformed voices all assaulting her mind. It made no sense. Why was she here, of all places, wherever ‘here’ was?  
  
  
  
She… she couldn’t remember. She massaged her temples for a few seconds, trying to get the pain to subside. Alright, the images were gone. The voices, however… there were too many of them, screaming, chattering, whispering, all at once. Some said things she had no clue about, some called her name, over and over again, like a broken music box.  
  
  
  
Her name. Of course, she was Akamatsu Kaede.  
  
  
  
Was she - was she a normal person? She couldn’t exactly recall who she was and why she was here, and the two questions kept repeating in her head. Standing up, trying not to wobble too much on her feet, she looked around. When her eyes got used to the light and the color there, she could distinctly make out the outlines of a desk and a low bed to the left.  
  
  
  
It appeared to be some kind of a room in the middle of the sky. The floor was glassy, and white as well. The ceiling, on the other hand… was nonexistent. Almost like a cloud that stretched on infinitely. She wondered if there were walls, and moved her neck about, looking in various directions, narrowing her eyes at the horizon.    
  
  
  
That was when she realised the first ‘wall’ was right there, a few meters to her right. And she wouldn’t have known had there not been the shadow of a human figure falling on it. ‘It,’ being a glass wall.  
  
  
  
And a very strange glass wall at that, in the middle of nowhere, stretching who knew how long at either sides. She walked towards it, slowly, a bit unsure, curious nevertheless - wanting to know what was on the other side of it.  
  
  
  
Stopped short when she saw the person behind.  
  
  
  
“Amami-kun..?”  
  
  
  
He was sitting down on the floor, only his profile visible to her. He seemed perturbed by something, his brows furrowed as he stared into the distance blankly. She walked closer, and had to rethink her analysis.  
  
  
  
He wasn’t troubled. On the contrary, he seemed quite sad, an expression of longing mixed with resignation plastered on his face. She didn’t know why, but seeing him like that made a feeling of extreme loneliness tinged half with sorrow rise up in her chest. She wanted to hold him close to her, whisper in his ear that it will all be alright, whatever it was, and that she was here for him, forever.  
  
  
  
But that couldn’t be right - after all, she… she had ceased to exist, hadn’t she?  
  
  
  
And there came shock.  
  
  
  
The sudden, mind-numbing, earth-shattering shock of the same calibre that had been present when she had seen him - or rather, his body - lying lifeless on the cold, hard floor, in a pool of his own blood… She couldn’t step back from the glass wall and their eyes met and the world seemed to have died and gone to hell several times over.  
  
  
  
But that couldn’t be true either, could it? It wasn’t the world that had died and gone to hell.  
  
  
  
No, it was them.  
  
  
  
She, Akamatsu Kaede, was in the world after death, whatever it was, and the person she had killed while alive was in front of her, staring across what felt like lifetimes of existences and millenniums of regrets. She took a shuddering breath as he slowly got up and walked over to the glass, the same lost expression on his face, blinking and crinkling up his eyelids. With superhuman effort she suppressed her hands from going to her neck and feeling for bruises, marks - anything. The orbs had come back to her, glowing ever so brightly, and in that moment she hated everyone and everything.  
  
  
  
Frozen right there, eyes wide and glassy, mouth a little agape. One hand had flown to her mouth just as he got up, still looking at her, and walked closer to the glass, closer to her. She heard a sob, saw his mouth move, felt the warm liquid of her tears on her hand and tasted salt in her mouth. She had been biting her tongue, and that had drawn blood. She was numb enough not to notice.  
  
  
  
He was saying something to her on the other side, his face twisted as though in pain. She squeezed her eyes shut, both her hands now on her mouth to keep herself from screaming. She shook her head repeatedly, tears spilling from her still shut eyelids.  
  
  
  
Ah, this was just too painful for her.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
There was music playing somewhere behind him, in the background. It sounded like something from a pleasant but distant, fading dream. The notes were delicate, haunting; with layers of soft, faint lyrics that all run into one another and formed the most beautiful melody he had ever heard.

 

Soft, faint lyrics that made his mind go blank and his throat go dry.

  
  
He lifted his head,  broken out of his daze, and searched for the sound. He hadn’t expected there to be music, and he felt inclined to think that it was only his brain playing tricks on him. Eyes half-shut, he attempted to distinguish the source from between the golden orbs, which were shimmering close to him. It was hard to see, but he was sure it was a person.  
  
  
  
He stood up, still in that same drowsy state of mind, as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He took a small step forward, as though he had calculated how much distance to cover.  
  
  
  
Before long, he was just in front of the glass, facing the person on the other side. So... it wasn't a real melody. There was no sound except the one in his head.  
  
  
  
“Akamatsu-san,” he whispered, voice hoarse. That was to be expected, though - he hadn’t spoken in a while, it was a wonder he could even use his voice. “Why are you here…?”  
  
  
  
It wasn’t a very intelligent question, but he wanted to be proven wrong.  
  
  
  
She was right there, opposite him, but on the other side of the glass. He tried to speak again, this time louder.  
  
  
  
“Akamatsu-san! Can you hear me?”  
  
  
  
She was hugging herself now, both hands clasping her mouth as though to stifle her voice, her eyes tightly shut. She looked like she was in pain.  
  
  
  
She was.  
  
  
  
“Please… why are you..? Akamatsu-san, you can’t possibly…”  
  
  
  
Possible? Anything was possible, he just didn’t want to acknowledge it. It couldn’t be right.  


  
Tears rolled down her cheeks as she shook her head over and over again. She didn’t hear, that much was clear. Maybe she didn’t _want_ to hear either. Did she really hate him that much?  
  
  
  
“Kaede-chan?”  
  
  
  
No response. She was shaking now, and he hated to see her in pain, but in that moment his own was preventing him from being able to think much about it. He grimaced, bracing his palms on the glass and leaning in as much as he could, and called her name again.  
  
  
  
She couldn’t hear. They had never truly heard each other when alive, too. He felt tears sting the back of his eyes, and slid down again to the floor, his hands trailing along the glass.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
It had been some time since they had found out the presence of each other. She was sitting with her back towards him, leaning her head on the wall, and he was lying down, staring upwards.  
  
  
  
The orbs, apparently, were some way of keeping time - for they had started getting darker as time went by. Right now, they almost had an evening glow to them, like reflecting the shades of the sunset as is seen on the clouds.  
  
  
  
Her cheeks felt sticky with dried up tears, and her eyes were tired. She tilted her head up, spaced out, and wondered what fate or destiny or whatever it was that controlled their lives had in store for her.  
  
  
  
There was a clang at the floor in front of her and she started.  
  
  
  
A piece of colored chalk.  
  
  
  
She dragged herself up and picked it from the floor. She looked questioningly in Amami’s direction, only to find him waving one hand holding another chalk at her. Had he thrown it to her over the barrier?  
  
  
  
She drew back closer and waited for him to do something. Anything.  
  
  
  
He gesticulated to the wall and she curiously tilted her head sideways. He looked at the chalk in his hand, then at the wall, and begun to write. She understood then, and waited for him to finish writing.  
  
  
  
It took him a while to get used to writing the characters inverse, and by the time he was done there were half-a-dozen crossed out letters on the wall. She read the short sentence.  
  
  
  
_“We can talk like this, so can you write?”  
_  
  
  
She nodded, and he motioned to the wall again.  
  
  
  
“Oh,” she said to herself as she wrote out a small ‘yes’ below his writing. He stared for a second at her response, and she was quite certain he was wondering why it had taken him so long to get the hang of writing that way and she needed no practice.  
  
  
  
She smiled to herself as he begun scribbling again, and sat down.  
  
  
  
They had quite a while, after all.  
  
  
  
_“You look the same.”  
  
  
  
“You haven’t changed either. Do you know how long you’ve been here?”  
  
  
  
“Not really… I’m sure it hasn’t been long.”  
  
  
  
“I didn’t expect to wake up here.”  
  
  
  
“I didn’t expect to see you here either.”  
_

  
She hadn’t knowing she could enjoy something like this some hours - or had it already been days? - ago, but now here she was, occasionally giggling at his mistakes while writing inversely and at the way he pouted when he caught her expressions. They sat there until the orbs had grown really dark, and it would’ve been difficult to see had the surroundings not been the white they were.  
  
  
  
At the end they ran out of ‘safe’ topics, and she felt dread rise in her throat when she gazed at him looking at his almost-finished piece of chalk. He had somehow found four pieces in his ‘desk,’ and this was the last pair they were using.    
  
  
  
It wouldn’t last. They needed for it to be out in the open - she didn’t know how long they would be stuck there, and she wanted to explain.  
  
  
  
She picked up her tiny piece of chalk just as he begun writing.  
  
  
  
_“Aren’t you sad?”  
_  
  
  
She didn’t say anything. He looked at her with glassy eyes, and raised his hand, slowly bringing it closer to the glass and placing it there, as he would to touch her cheek had the glass not been there. She forces a smile back at him, one full of sadness but also reflecting the fact the she had already resigned herself to this. She raised her own hand, and touched her palm with the glass at the spot his was.  
  
  
  
They could almost feel the warmth of the other through the glass, but not quite.  
  
  
  
_Almost.  
_  
  
  
He picked up the chalk with his dominant hand, leaving the other still on the glass. He wrote slowly, as though his hands had no energy in them and it was a task that pained him to no extent.  
  
  
  
_“I want to be with you.”  
_  
  
  
She gave him that sad little smile again, her hand nearly folding into a fist, involuntarily scratching the glass with the very nails he had painted before.  
  
  
  
_“You ARE with me, aren’t you?”_ She wrote back, then kept her hand on the glass again, making sure to write the ‘are’ in capitals, so he understood.  
  
  
  
_“No… it’s cold. It’s much colder this way.”  
_  
  
  
She slid her hand down, at a loss for a reply. For a bit, she absently gazed at the hand he still kept pressed on the glass, engraving all the lines of his palm and the shape of his fingers into her mind. A movement of his hand brought her back to her senses.  
  
  
  
He was writing again, and she desperately wished it was something light-hearted to show that he wasn’t serious just a minute ago, to assure her that he wasn’t going to bring up the topic of their deaths.  
  
  
  
She wasn’t right.  
  
  
  
_“Please hold my hand…”_ he wrote, and Akamatsu’s heart skipped a beat. She shut her eyes tightly again, but this time she didn’t cry.  
  
  
  
It took her a moment to compose herself, and when she opened them again the expression in her eyes showed a clarity of understanding mixed with regret, resignation and longing. _“If I do… you would disappear.”_  
  
  
  
Neither of them understood how they could say that or where they had found out, but they just _knew_. It struck the both of them as an irrefutable piece of information that Amami would disappear if she touched him.  
  
  
  
But it wasn’t as if he was worried enough about that, at that point.  
  
  
  
_“I don’t care. I can’t accept this, you’re not the one who killed me.”_ He underlined the last part after she read, as if to drill it securely into her head.  
  
  
  
Akamatsu felt like someone had stabbed her in the heart with a knife, and the knife was being twisted inside. Then there was another sharp pang of pain, the knife having been removed once and thrust back in with twice the amount of force. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe, but a few seconds later, she took a shuddering breath, bent her head downwards and let her hand drop free, the piece of chalk falling to the floor.  
  
  
  
Amami watched her, a kind of desperate light in his eyes. He shifted closer, sliding his own hand back down from the glass which had by now warmed in that place.  
  
  
  
With trembling hands, she picked up the chalk once more, most of her face shielded by her bangs. He could only see her mouth, and it seemed like she was gritting her teeth really hard.  
  
  
  
_“I’m sorry,”_ She wrote shakily, her handwriting wobbling at the end.  
  
  
  
For a bit, he forgot that she couldn’t hear him and started to shout in protest, “It wasn’t you, Akamatsu-san! It - _it couldn’t have been!_ It’s _not_ you!”  
  
  
  
Akamatsu wasn’t looking at him, however, and he stood up, absently flinging the chalk to the floor, swung his arm back a bit and punched the wall. Perhaps she saw him move from the corner of her eye, or there was some movement of the glass, he wouldn’t know - but then she looked up and her eyes widened in shock.  
  
  
  
She clambered to her feet as well, and yelled what he figured were words that told him to stop.  
  
  
  
He couldn’t hear her, though, and it really wouldn’t have made any difference - he continued punching it. Pain shot through his arm, up his shoulder but he didn’t cease, switching to his other hand at times. She stood just behind his fist, and after every hit the glass wall took her image distorted a little. There were cracks now, and he felt himself hoping that there would at least form a small hole they could use to talk, if the entire wall wouldn't fall.  
  
  
  
She was flustered now, her thoughts and emotions a mess. She didn't want him to break that damned wall, because she didn't want him to just vanish into thin air - but she also wanted to be assured that he was real right then, and she could have him be alive and near her once more.  
  
  
  
She ran a hand through her bangs tensely, almost pulling them out, and said, “Amami-kun, don't do this, please! I don't think we're supposed to do whatever we want or - or break rules - or break this wall!”  
  
  
  
Of course, she had forgotten he couldn't hear her. She hurriedly moved to his right and began jotting down words on the wall, her writing unsteady and only half her words inverse. She could vaguely make out bruises forming on his knuckles, and was certain that there would be blood before long.  
  
_  
__  
__“Please, I beg you, your disappearance will be much, much worse,”_ she all but sobbed, still writing broken messages to him. She didn’t know when she started, but she was crying freely now, albeit quietly.  
  
  
  
_“Don’t you get it? If you break it you will DISAPPEAR and that will be the worst thing ever!”_  
  
  
  
He stopped for a moment, and she became quiet, half-hoping he'd listened to her and half-curious about his next actions.  
  
  
  
He kept his eyes on the cracks on the wall for a long while before closing them, now longer than before, and flicked his wrist as if to shrug of the pain. There were small rivulets of pink where the blood flowed from his hand, and his actions caused some to splatter on the ground and on the wall.  
  
  
  
She gasped when a few fell directly in front of her, and a spark of anger went and joined all the other myriad emotions inside her.  
  
  
  
“Goddamnit, Rantarou, listen to me!” She yelled at him, punching the wall out of sheer frustration as well. He looked surprised, and she stopped, looking at him gaping at her tear-stained face.  
  
  
  
“Wh-what?”  
  
  
  
He cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled back, “I… hear… thing!”  
  
  
  
She stood there, dazed, and her hand flew to her thundering heart. She could hear him now..?  
  
  
  
“You're an idiot!” She screamed back, punching the wall at the same time. Somewhere in the back of her head, her still rational side wondered how she had gone from trying to stop him to doing the same thing herself, but the answer was that she didn't even care anymore.  
  
  
  
Amami grinned sheepishly back at her, resuming the act of hitting the wall, but this time alternating his punches with hers. He almost admired how pissed she looked in that moment, even though there was blood on the glass and both of their arms hurt from the mindless violence.  
  
  
  
But they were both too desperate and too tired to give a damn. They needed an outlet for all their negative emotions, and as much as they would deny it later, they were just taking it out on what was in front of them.  
  
  
  
There was a _chunk_ sound, audible even between the thumps of their fists meeting the glass. She stopped, her eyes narrowed at the cracks. He went on.  
  
  
  
It was the last hit.  
  
  
  
A louder chink.  
  
  
  
There were cracks spreading all over the wall and they couldn’t see each other because of that extremely large amount and it started crumbling at the bottom and came crashing down. She tripped in her haste to get back, and it felt to her as if time had slowed down as she fell, her gaze on the shards - some tiny, some huge - all rotating in mid-air as one of her hands stretched out for aid on reflex. Her eyes closed just when she thought she was about to hit the ground.  
  
  
  
She never fell, though.  
  
  
  
She never fell because Amami grabbed her outstretched hand and had wrapped his other arm around her waist to stop her from falling. Perhaps he didn’t even have the darned reflexes to think about shielding himself first, but in that moment it didn’t really matter.  
  
  
  
Her eyes opened slowly, one eyelid cracking open before the other, both staring behind him at the glass wall which was now disappearing into soft golden light, all its pieces fading away. It didn’t hurt now - the sharp glass, she meant - and the place where his hand rested upon her skin felt warm. Much warmer than it had felt on the cold, hard glass.    
  
  
  
Shifting her gaze to his face, she could hear herself fervently wishing that it was all happening right there, that it wasn’t some dream and that she wasn’t hallucinating.  
  
  
  
He was still there, his flushed face inches away from hers, breath hot on her face.  
  
  
  
“You - you’re right here,” she breathed, over and over again, from delight as much as to assure the both of them, “You’re _here_ , Rantarou, _you’re right_ here.”  
  
  
  
She raise her hand slowly - as though afraid he would vanish if she moved too much - only to not quite cup his cheek.  
  
  
  
“I’m here,” he echoed, leaning into her hand himself.  
  
  
  
“You didn’t - you didn’t go - like last time -”  
  
  
  
He cut her off by pulling her even closer, both their bodies melting into each other’s as if they were made for it.  
  
  
  
Maybe they were.  
  
  
  
“You’re warm,” he mumbled, nuzzling her neck, and she felt tears rise to her eyes once more.  
  
  
  
“Uh-hmm,” she hums, voice breaking with emotion before she could actually form words. She felt him tense for a bit, and knew at once what was coming next.  
  
  
  
There was a heavy silence, the very air felt suffocating - and both of them were thinking the same thing.  
  
  
  
“It… it wasn’t you, then.”  
  
  
  
She smiled, a sad little smile that he couldn’t see since her chin rested on his shoulder. “It’s… alright now.”  
  
  
  
His grip on her tightened, and she thought she felt him shaking. Maybe he was. She didn’t want him to, however.  
  
  
  
“Rantarou,” she softly said into her ear, switching to given names permanently, “I’m telling you, it’s alright. If it wasn’t me, it would have been another innocent.”  
  
  
  
He pulled back from her, mouth trembling with barely suppressed rage and anguish visible on his face. “I’m,” he paused, took an unsteady breath and continued, “I’m sorry. I couldn’t - I couldn’t protect you.”  
  
  
  
She shushed him, wiping away the tears forming at the corners of his eyes. She wouldn’t let him shed tears for her - not now, not ever.  
  
  
  
“Kaede,” he whispers, tone pleading for some reason.  
  
  
  
“I’m telling you, it’s better this way. At least -” she took a sharp intake of breath, “at least I get to be with you.”  
  
  
  
He looked away for a second, and when he looked back at her he had a pained smile on his face. She smiled back, hers kind and genuine, albeit as sad as his.  
  
  
  
It was then that they became truly aware of the fact that this ‘world’ they were in was fading, similar to the glass wall. It looked as though it was folding back in on itself, closing in on them, but it still seemed friendly. The forgotten chalks on the floor vanished in a matter of seconds, and their beds and desks were gone, too.  
  
  
  
“Are we moving on to the ‘real’ afterlife?” She asked, gazing at the floor crumbling away into nothingness.  
  
  
  
He looked at her for what seemed like a long while, before saying, “Are you… are you scared?”  
  
  
  
She tilted her head upwards - not to peer up at him, but at the sky, or lack thereof - and blinked. “I don’t think I am,” she confessed, closing her eyes, “You’re with me, and this light feels warm.”  
  
  
  
“What light-?” He began, but stopped when his eyes fell on the white flashes to his right.  
  
  
  
She was right, it did feel warm, and inexplicably squeezed his heart with emotion. It was blinding, yet soothing at the same time - blinding and bright, so bright he could’ve cried.  
  
  
  
“Oh,” It came out as a relieved sigh, and she smiled again at him. He slipped his hand into hers, and she squeezed it.  
  
  
  
He squeezed back, his heart at peace.  
  
  
  
He wondered if the rooms with the walls existed so that the people there could forgive themselves as well as each other, and move on. Maybe the walls were there to separate the ones who could harm each other, and hence would lead to instability after death.  
  
  
  
But he liked to think they were there so that the ones who shared special bonds like Kaede and him could meet again.  
  
  
  
She shook him out of his reverie by walking to the side, and pulling at his hand.  
  
  
  
“What?” He couldn’t help but ask, his tone quizzical.  
  
  
  
She grinned, her expression cheerful, not a hint of sorrow behind the curve of her lips. “Just come on! We’ll go there together.”  
  
  
  
He relaxed and allowed her to drag him with her, to what could possibly be the end of one journey and the beginning of another.  


  


**Author's Note:**

> Hahaha... ha. Thank you for reading so far, I hope I'm still alive and you haven't killed me lmao This is my longest 'one-shot' ever and I hope it turned out well.
> 
> Edit: This is FINALLY PROOFREAD AND IM CRYING AT THE AMOUNT OF ERRORS HOW COULD I HAVE POSTED THIS ADEJBWEFVW ANYONE WOULD CRY READING THIS


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